La Belle Ile en Mere Pt. 02

"I ... do?" He shrugged out of his jacket, pulled off his tie, and unbuttoned his vest.

"So humble too." She leaned her dark lips down toward George's bloated cockhead.

"Oh ... you're going to put it in your mouth. Well ... uuggghhhhh ... of course you are." He watched her with wide eyes. She was a dainty woman, and the way she nearly unhinged her jaw made his dick look gigantic. "You look ... amazing."

"Mmmmmpppphhhhhhhhh." Edith bobbed her head on his substantial penis. Her left hand moved from the shaft to his testicle, massaging it rhythmically.

"You're wayyyyyyyy ... ugh ... better at this ... than my ... ex-girlfriend." George watched her face bulge around his dick. Her brown hair was pinned up with a small hat, so it was easy to observe her expertise. "So ... warm ... and tight ... and I can feel it ... at the ... at the ... aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh." He erupted in her mouth.

Edith's slurping, sucking sounds changed to gulping.

"Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhh." George threw his head back on the pillow, gripped the covers, and thrust his hips up at her. This was so much better than masturbating or the stuff he'd done with girls his own age. It was so good, in fact, that he wasn't even embarrassed about how quickly his orgasm happened. "Oooohhhhhhhhhhh." His hips jerked as Edith gulped down the last few spurts.

When his climax was over, Edith stood and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I'll visit you again, George Zaal. I like you very much." Her smile was bright, and her brown skin was unblemished by cum. She'd swallowed it all. "But if you approach me out there, I will pretend this didn't happen." She gestured toward the door of his room. "This has to be our secret."

"Yes ... okay." With vague disappointment, he saw her pull on a glove. Before she could put on the other one, he held out his hand. "Before ... you go ... can we hold hands ... without your glove?" It was electric when she put her bare hand in his. He looked at her smooth skin and nimble joints. "You're beautiful, Ms. Pemberton."

"Thank you, George." She withdrew her hand and slipped it into its glove. "When we're alone in your room, you can call me Edith." She gave him a wink and walked toward the door, her skirts rustling behind her.

"Thank you, Edith." His eyes were filled with adoration as he watched her backside move across the room.

Edith stopped at the door, a gloved hand on the handle. "You need never thank a lady for enjoying herself with a handsome, charming young man. Nevertheless, you're welcome." With one last smile, she opened the door, slipped out into the hall, and closed it behind her.

"Wow." George exhaled and lay on the bed. He stared right through the muraled ceiling into infinity. His dick was still standing at attention. He remembered that the doors didn't lock, so he hustled to the bathroom to reach his second climax. It was lucky his mother hadn't checked in on him when Edith was there. His parents had forgiven him for the accident with the Havershams. If they caught him with Edith so soon after, they might start to think something was wrong with him. He paused as he entered the bathroom.

Is something wrong with me? George was in the middle of a catastrophe, and he was thinking with his lesser head. But ... neither situation had been his fault. It was Edith and her alluring bare hands, both times. He shook his head, started the shower, and began fapping.

~~

"Almost to ... the ring." Ernest glanced at the Fourth Floor sign as they descended the wide, carpeted stairs. On the right side of the switchback, they were currently heading toward the long window that made up one wall of the stairway. He could see debris passing by, but no bodies. "You know, Rose, something odd is going on."

"You mean that we haven't found any lifeboats?" Sweat soaked Rose's bodice. She was exhausted from the descent. She didn't look forward to turning back around and climbing all those stairs. Especially without any good news to share when they got back.

"No." Ernest turned on the switchback, putting the window to his back. "We've been exploring the hotel for hours and found no bodies."

"Océane picked them up." Rose shrugged. "She probably spaced them."

"Yes, that's what I thought at first, too." Ernest rubbed his chin. "But if that were so, there would be thousands of bodies floating around the station. I haven't seen more than a few through this window. And I didn't see any when we stopped at the restaurant with the wide view."

"Hmm." Rose turned it over in her head. "That is odd." On the off chance that Océane was speaking English, Rose tried their resident AI again. "Océane, what did you do with all the dead?" They passed the third floor. There was supposed to be a dock on the second floor, so they planned to leave the stairway soon to check on it. And then they would see about accessing the ring.

"Vous n'avez pas l'autorisation pour ces données," Océane said.

"The hotel wouldn't have facilities to hold so many people. Not by a long shot." Ernest thought things over. "Maybe she put them into the reclamation system? If so, I can hardly think of a more horrible way to treat the dead."

"Would that mean that we're eating the ..." Rose's voice trailed off. Her feet stopped, her right one a step lower than her left. She was vaguely aware of Ernest stopping a few steps behind her. There was a floor to ceiling obstruction ahead. Her gloved hand went to her mouth. "What ... is that?" With her other hand she pointed at the shiny, black thing. It seemed to be pulsing with a dyadic beat, almost like a heart. There was a faint rainbow sheen on its surface the color of an oil slick. The obstruction was mostly opaque, but she thought she could just make out shapes below the surface. She caught sight of a partially dissolved shoe. And then long blond hair floating. She shrieked when she saw a green eye blink near the shimmering surface. It wasn't connected to any body that she could see.

"I ... stand corrected." Ernest stared, the color disappearing from his cheeks. "This is a much more horrible way to treat the dead. What is it?"

"I have no idea." Rose took a step back. "We should leave. We should leave right -" A shiny, black arm more than ten feet long reached out from the barrier and seized Rose around her middle. She screamed, but could not break free.

"My ... God!" Ernest turned and ran. Rose's scream ended abruptly when he heard a sickening crunch behind him. He dared not turn around to determine her fate. He had to leave. He needed to warn the others. Something had gone very wrong with La Belle Île en Mer.